Centaur Love
by Elliot Pole
Summary: It is now Romilda Vane's last year at Hogwarts, and she's still bitter at Harry's choosing Ginny over herself.  When she goes into the Forbidden Forest to meet Firenze's brother, the latter ends up falling in love with Romilda, causing problems.


**Centaur Love**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had graduated from Hogwarts two years ago, and now Romilda Vane was in her seventh year. She was taking courses in Charms, Divination, and Potions at the N.E.W.T. level. Her Divination teacher was Firenze, the centaur, who made life interesting.

After Divination class one day in early October, Firenze asked Romilda if she would like to see centaurs in their natural habitat. This opportunity was offered to one distinguished seventh-year student annually, and Romilda had shown herself to be particularly interested in centaur habits.

The problem was that the meeting was to be held the selfsame day as the first trip to Hogsmeade that year. Of course, Romilda had had her fill of the wizarding village, but she had a younger sister who would be going there for the first time. Presey Vane had counted on Romilda to show her and her friends around, because they thought it would be interesting to go with someone who was experienced. There was no one Presey looked up to more than her elder sister, and she hoped to be just like her when she turned seventeen.

Meeting Presey in the Great Hall, Romilda broke to her the news. "I'm sorry I can't go with you to Hogsmeade."

"But you promised!"

"Sometimes people must break their promises."

"You think that just because I'm in Hufflepuff and you're in Gryffindor, you can blow me off. You'll regret it, sis."

That had been a major disappointment for the Vane family, when Presey had sent them a tear-stained letter two years ago saying that the Sorting Hat had placed her in Hufflepuff House. To have a reject for an offspring…that made the Vanes feel like scum. Romilda sometimes even treated Presey as if she were inferior, but up till now she had been considerate and true to her word.

Presey could be as revengeful as she was awestruck. Even though she venerated Romilda to the point of lionizing her, if she said her sister would regret reneging on her promise, you could be sure that she would see to it that her words were carried out.

Romilda wasn't afraid, and she went to sleep peacefully the night before Hogsmeade weekend.

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The Fat Lady was aroused by a noise of footsteps approaching.

"What are you doing, waking me up at the middle of the night? Password?"

"_Duplicity."_

"I hope not," the Fat Lady said, as she swung forward on her hinges.

Presey found the staircase leading to the girl's dormitory and proceeded up it. She searched for the door marked "**Seventh Years**," and finding it, entered quietly.

Her beautiful sister was heedless of any treachery as Presey stepped forward. She pulled a bottle of perfume from her robe, then uncorked it. Pouring an adequate amount of this on her sister's chest, she almost giggled, but held her breath. After concluding this task, she made her exit, smooth as a caterpillar.

Romilda woke up the next morning, bright and cheerful. She went down to breakfast, and waited for the students to file out for Hogsmeade. Presey frowned at her as she passed, even though Romilda gave her a pleading expression that clearly said, "I'm sorry."

At last, all the village visitors had exited the castle, and Firenze emerged from his classroom, to join Romilda. They walked out onto the front lawn together, and headed towards the Forbidden Forest.

"When I first came here," Firenze told her, as they traipsed over fallen boughs, "the centaur race was opposed to me working at Hogwarts. They believed I was serving the wizards, degrading my name as a centaur, and living a life of slavery and subjugation. But since then, my brother Ciraud has replaced Bane as leader of the centaurs."

"Is Ciraud a good leader?"

"He, like most centaurs, distrusts humankind, especially wizards. But he is loyal, and he understands the bond of family. And if I say you are to be trusted, he will trust you."

They entered an open clearing, and Firenze made a call that sounded much like a horse's neighing, except that it was rather hallow.

There were cheers and hollers and all other kinds of noises. Nobody had seen Firenze in months, and he was the favorite of most of the centaurs. They seemed to appear out of nowhere, and to come from all sides. But they stopped their celebration when they saw Romilda.

"You brought a filthy human, Firenze?" asked a centaur with a gray beard, and muscular atrophy.

"You know it is part of my teaching experience, Glen. And, where is Ciraud?"

"Right here," said someone with a brusque voice. He stepped forward. The first thing that was noticeable was that he was not a natural color, but orange. "And what have…" but he stopped in mid-sentence, sniffing the air. He looked at Romilda, the source of the odor. An awkward expression appeared on his face.

"So, this is the human you've brought to meet us? What is her name?"

"I can speak you know," Romilda said. "Why don't you talk directly to me?"

The other centaurs gasped at her impudence. How dare she act like that around their leader!

"Yes, why don't you ask her yourself, Ciraud?" Firenze queried.

The addressed centaur looked at Romilda, attempting to say something. But all that came out of his mouth was what could be called nervous neighing.

Firenze stared hard at his brother, than realized something was amiss. "I knew this was a bad idea," he muttered to himself.

"Come on, Romilda. Hop on my back. We're going back to Hogwarts."

"But we just got here!"

"It's too dangerous! Please, listen to me."

"Okay, fine," she said, climbing on. The other centaurs were appalled.

Firenze and Romilda had gone a good distance, with Ciraud eyeing them carefully, when he dispatched four centaurs, saying, "Seize them."

During the next few minutes, agonies ran through Ciraud's mind. He heard fighting many yards away, then saw his centaurs coming towards him, empty-handed.

"He was too strong for us, sire."

"For four of you?"

"Firenze has been training, hard. He's no longer the young foal he was when he took up his post at Hogwarts."

"Well, curse you, Badlam, Lemmos, Insur, and Wilm! For the next few days, you'll will lose your dining privileges."

"But sire—"

"No protesting, or I'll make it a fortnight."

Meanwhile, Firenze brought Romilda back to the castle. She slid off his back, frightened now.

"Firenze, what was that all about?"

"I didn't bother to check before we left," he said, pacing back and forth.

"Didn't bother to check what? And what was with Ciraud?"

"Romilda, I hate to tell you this," Fireze said, facing her, "but my brother is in love with you."

"What?"

"You're wearing some kind of perfume, specifically designed to make centaurs fall in love with humans. I didn't get affected, because I am constantly around witches and wizards, being a teacher. But Ciraud has made little or no contact with your kind, and was thus infatuated."

"How could that be? I didn't put anything on this morning…"

"Well, someone put something on you. That's my surmise. Whether it was deliberate or no, I cannot say. What I can claim, however, is that you are in danger. I may have to speak to Headmistress McGonagell about making you move to another school. Durmstrang or Beauxbatons would be better."

"But all my friends are here!"

"And they'll be mighty fine friends indeed if they let you get raped by a lovesick centaur!"

"Firenze, it's my life, and I'd rather take the risk than lose my friends."

"But I, dear Romilda, could never bear it on my conscience that I had an opportunity to save you and I missed it." Firenze left the room, heading to the front office.

Romilda went to the Gryffindor common room, which was empty. She sat in a couch and went to sleep.

"Wake up, sis! You missed everything, my first time visiting The Three Broomsticks and drinking butterbeer, and when Annie found licorice mice scampering about in Honeydukes, or when we walked past the Shrieking Shack, and Kimberly swore she heard a ghost…"

By now, Romilda was fully aroused. She stared at her sister, and hugged her.

Presey was flabbergasted, not expecting this. "Romilda, are you all right?"

"No, I'm not. A centaur is in love with me, and Firenze wants me to move away, go to Beauxbatons or something."

"Wait, _Firenze _is in love with you?"

"No, not him. His brother, Ciraud. Firenze says it was some perfume I was wearing, which is strange because I didn't put any on this morning."

Presey gasped, as if she had just remembered something. She ran off.

"Where are you going?" Romilda called after her, but Presey did not make any sign of acknowledgement.

Four days later, Romilda found herself in the Headmistress' office.

"I'm sure you know why I have called you down here, Miss Vane."

"I have an idea, yes."

"When a magical beast is in love with you, you must take all necessary precautions. I do wish there was a way to make him unlove you again, but…"

"Maybe if I pretended to be in love with him?"

"What kind of things have you been reading? Muggle Romance stories? That may work very well for those unfortunate enough to never have experienced magic, but for witches like yourself, it is all pots and nonsense."

"Oh, please don't send me to another school! I love it here," Romilda said.

"Do you, really? Because a girlfriend of yours, Sally Sedgewick, brought me a diary she swears you wrote, in which the author says how much she'll hate it at Hogwarts after Harry Potter leaves."

"What was Sally doing with my diary?"

"She was trying to protect you. Miss Vane, You-Know-Who may be dead, but we live in more dangerous times than ever. Now, allow me to put a situation before you: Suppose that Ciraud were to somehow get a hold of your journal, and deliver carry it to Potter himself? What would you think then?"

"My Harry? Find out my innermost thoughts? No!"

"By why would you want to keep this a secret? From my understanding, while he was here at Hogwarts, you were very open about your feelings."

"That was before he started dating that prissy red-headed girl. And I sort of made a promise."

"What sort of promise?"

"I told him that I knew I could never be his girl, and that I would burn all things I've written about him, immediately after I saw him last."

"And yet, you broke this promise."

"Yes, but I certainly don't want him to know it!"

"This journal hides your most secret thoughts. And your body holds a seed that must be protected until you have found true love. Therefore, I am obliged to send you to Beauxbatons—"

"No!"

"Miss Vane, listen to me! I cannot allow anyone under my custody to be raped, and the only hundred percent chance of avoiding that is by sending you away."

"Who cares? It's my life, not yours. You just don't want anything to tarnish Hogwarts' stellar reputation."

"That's not true!" McGonagell said, indignantly.

"You don't care anything about my feelings, just being safe, so that parents will want to send their kids to school here. But I'm not leaving, and that is final!"

"I'm afraid your parents have more say in the matter," McGonagell said.

"But I'm seventeen!"

"What I meant to say was, your parents can choose to cut you off, if you disobey their wish to send you to Beauxbatons. And you know what that means? No more designer purses and romance novels! All the things you love will be a thing of the past."

"They would never do that!"

"Send them a post by owl tomorrow morning, and I guarantee they'll tell you the same thing. But I am through arguing with you. Take your journal," McGonagell said, handing it to her, "and leave."

Romila proceeded to do so, when the Headmistress stopped her once more. "There is one more thing I was meaning to ask you. What is with your sister? Professor Noeld told me that she has not been in her Transfiguration class for the last two meetings, and the same goes for Professor Slughorn. Madame Pomfrey has not seen her either, as I've checked the hospital ward. I talked to Professor Lupin about checking in the Gryffindor room, but as he's a male, he can't enter the female ward. So, what's going on?"

"I had no idea Presey was hiding. Last time I saw her was Saturday night."

"Very well, then, Miss Vane. You may go."

"They're going to make me go to Beauxbatons!" Romilda told Sally.

"So? It's a wonderful school. I wish I could go there."

"If you went there, and Emily, and Presey, everything would be fine. But since I'm forced to go alone…"

"We'll see each other at Christmas, Romilda. And your sister will be fine without you. You should've seen her at Hogsmeade! That kid's got spunk."

"Then, Presey doesn't need me?"

"No, not at all! She's perfectly fine on her own; better even, than she ever was with you. She's really growing up."

"Well, I guess if she doesn't need me, maybe it's better that I'm going to Beauxbatons after all."

"You'll love it! I hear that there's this really amazing waterfall…" and Sally rambled on and on about the merits of Beauxbatons, not realizing that her friend was hurting inside.

Deep runs the water of many hearts. Dangerous runs the water of few. And when one has no purpose in life anymore, it is given that s/he can do whatever they desire.

Romilda Vane was not one to deprive anyone of love, unlike Harry Potter. She knew that was not how he won Ginny's heart, but it didn't matter. He was out of her reach now, and he wouldn't care if she died tomorrow. So why not throw caution to the winds, and do the very thing everybody was afraid would happen?

With that on her mind, she snuck out of the dormitory one night, waking the Fat Lady, and strutting out the castle entrance.

It was very chilly as she walked toward the Forbidden Forest. She wanted to run, so that she could get it over with as soon as possible.

Entering the wood, she meandered aimlessly until she heard footsteps approaching her. Presently she saw four centaurs—the same ones who attacked Firenze. She waited until they arrived, ready to beat her in the dust, her heart palpitating at ninety miles an hour. Then she spoke, when they were quite near her, one of them having raised his hooves.

"Stop!" she shouted. "Take me to your leader; I want to speak with him."

The three who had their feet firmly planted on the ground, stared awkwardly at each other, and the one with hooves in the air, was aiming at her, as if he hadn't heard her speak.

"Lemmons, you heard the girl," said one of the centaurs. "She will come quietly, so you needn't mash her."

He put his feet down, and the centaurs got on all four sides of her. They walked some mile, finally reaching a clearing, which belonged chiefly to Ciraud. "The king awaits," they said, and Romilda stepped forward.

Ciraud's orange color was more brilliantly poignant at night than at day. "So, you have come," he said.

"Do with me what you will."

The centaur could not hide his delight, and he introduced her to his nest as a lover.

After Ciraud had had his fill, Romilda walked back to the castle. She got lost on the way, and cut her finger on a bristly pine. The smell of blood attracted a threstral, which she could see because she had watched her cousin die as an infant.

The threstral guided her out of the forest, and she passed it lightly on the head.

When she returned to Gryffindor common room, everything was quiet. She headed toward the sofa, to have a few minutes of reflection, when she realized someone was in it.

Taking a closer look, she saw that it was Presey, sound asleep. Deciding it would be best to leave her sister alone, she headed towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories, when she tripped over someone's cat, causing it to give a loud, unpleasant mewing noise, the purport of which woke Presey.

She did not notice that it was Romilda sprawled on the floor at first, but when this fact appropriated her attention, she ran up to her sister and hugged her.

"Romilda, please forgive me! I've been a naughty girl; it was I who put that perfume on you, because I was mad that you were going into the Forbidden Forest instead of going to Hogsmeade with me. I knew that it would attract a centaur, and now I've been hiding in the third-years' room, out of shame. And now you're going to be sent to Beauxbatons, and you'll forget all about me, bad, bad girl that I am."

"Oh Presey, how could you? That was a very mean and ill-spirited thing to do. I hope that while I'm gone you'll think more before you act."

"I said I was sorry!" Presey said, shrinking back.

"Hogwarts was my home, more so than you can ever know. This place makes me think of Harry, and of love, and many other things. Of course, Harry treated me like scum under his feet, but it doesn't matter. I had hopes of still winning him, as long as I made it through Hogwarts. But no, to Beauxbatons I have been sacked. I will never forgive you!"

Then Romilda ran to the seventh years' dormitory, with all kinds of thoughts racing through her head. She had lost her loved one, her school, her sister, her friends, and her virginity. Of course, things could be worse.

The next day, Sally helped her pack. It was going to be a dismal ride in a carriage led by white horses in the sky, to go to a school in France where naturally she would be expected to speak their disgusting language.

Firenze did not say goodbye, but sent her a note.

_Dearest Romilda,_

_How unfortunate it is that my brother's actions should condemn you to an unhappy fate! If I could him, I would. This statement may come off as a little too strong, but I have a confession to make: I was not as wholly oblivious to the perfume you were wearing that day as I had liked you to believe. After that day, I fell into an infatuation with you. While you were in my class, I had to avert my gaze every time my eyes approached you._

_The major difference between the love of my brother and that of myself was that his was entirely of lust, and I was attracted to every ounce and idea and being that makes up the most precious Romilda Vane. Indeed, I was so in love with you that I wrote a passionate letter to Harry Potter, lavishing such accolades upon yourself that I am almost certain that he dreamt of nothing but you for a week._

_This is one reason why I support the decision of Professor McGonagell and your benevolent parents, to send you to Beauxbatons. There, I am certain, you will be safe from any lovesick centaurs, and I will not be able to harm you. Sometimes I fear my own strength to control this passion, which is why I sent you a missive instead of meeting you to face-to-face, other than the fact that it would be inappropriate to speak of these matters in public._

_There is another danger I fear, but it is wholly on my side and not yours. That is this: when you are gone, all the joy I have ever had will dissipate, and it will not be long after that before I perish. How anyone can live without Romilda Vane is beyond my capacity for comprehension, and I don't believe myself capable of doing it._

_I am sorry to disturb you with the affections of an old centaur, but you have captured my mind, my breath, my every thought of being! I really hope that I am capable of dying in your absence, that I might prove the level of my ardor._

_But for now, my pet, it is time to say,_

_Adieu._

Once Romilda had read the note twice thoroughly, especially savoring the part about Harry dreaming of her, she ripped it into a thousand pieces, tossing it into the hungry fire. She was thoroughly disgusted with centaurs being in love with her, and hoped that this charade would terminate ere long. Then she went down to board the coach, and was carried away to Beauxbatons.

I cannot say that Romilda was entirely unhappy at her new school, for there she found a third-year girl whom she could love more than her sister, one Gabrielle Delacour. What was even better was that Gabrielle could talk nonstop about Harry—he had been at her sister's wedding, and saved her life when she was eight.

As to friends her own age, their was Joan Priscitti, a blonde girl who spent at her time talking about French dishes, and Eva Wood, a girl born in Scotland, who loved reading romance novels, especially ones with sad endings.

After a banquet held on Madame Maxime's birthday, Eva told Romilda that a boy was eyeing her. She introduced him as being Jacques Focquet, one of the most illustrious seventh-years in the entire school. Romilda went up to him, only to become acquainted, but they began talking and never ceased, for three hours straight, walking about the school's green in the moonlit darkness.

When Romilda went to bed that night, she was glad of one thing: Jacques was not a centaur!


End file.
